Hopes and Dream
by The Rational Dove
Summary: On the train commuting to work is the least likely area Kiku expects to find a sleepy hot postman. Whne he talks to this person, he soon wonders whether there are some dreams worth the while.Giirpan Exchange Fic


_Hopes and Dreams  
><em>  
>Kiku didn't believe in dreams…He didn't care for them, saw them as some highfalutin fantasy of the feckless mind. Kiku was different from all those in the work force who spoke of promotions with zealous ambition. He knew his limits and with their current employer, there was no way promotion remained an achievable goal for any worker. If it were in the grasps of those beneath, Kiku would've stood on the higher rungs of the corporate ladder by now.<p>

Everyone in the work force knew beyond reasonable doubt that, despite his youth, the chocolate-eyed male could pass as the epitome of a businessman. So flawless in his work ethic-from his handwriting, his blinding efficiency on a keyboard, his meticulously ironed clothing- everything about him- that veterans even placed bets on how quickly the boss would raise the number on Kiku's paycheck or give him some four word title or upgrade his puny cubicle to a spacious office with wood desks and windows overlooking the parking lot…

But as with all dreams, the reality spoiled it like graffiti over a magnificent mural. Their employer's pusillanimous tendencies and hunger for power over the subservient served as the fetters chaining the workers to their stations, throwing all hopes for promotion to the winds…

A rancorous snore jolted Kiku from his melancholy thoughts. What was intended as a quick glance upon the disconcert sound's origin transformed into a noticeably lengthy stare.  
>There slept a man- about the same age as Kiku, possibly younger- curled up on the seat in a loose fetal position. He looked European, with tanned skin, unruly brown hair that kinked at odd angles and a calm, impassive face with a mouth open slightly.<p>

By his uniform, Kiku could tell immediately he was a postal worker, but he'd never thought someone could look handsome in the less-than-flattering outfit. His white button-up shirt (only buttoned halfway) brought out his olive skin and the tight blue pants looked so complimentary on his legs. Kiku found himself flushed just from the sight of him. Realizing his heated face, Kiku caught himself and return to facing forward, hoping none of the other passengers took notice of his staring.

Even without his gaze fixated on the man, Kiku's thoughts centered on him. He'd never expect a postman riding the train, assuming postman were assigned to send mail only around the neighborhood he or she worked in, but being uneducated in the field, he couldn't be certain. Nevertheless, the man should have some stop to get off at and he had the potential of missing said stop while slumbering.

"Sir?" Kiku called to the postman, hoping to rouse him, "Sir!" The postal worker, to Kiku's consternation, merely grunted in his slumber and made no movement.

With more determination, Kiku tried again. This time, Kiku shimmied a tad closer to the somnolent passenger, delivering a sharp poke to his side.

"W-what? What?" the male blinked repeatedly, sitting up sluggishly. "What is it?"

Suddenly, all of the words Kiku wished to say to the man were sucked from his cerebral in a flash for a terrifying moment. For some reason, having the postman's verdant irises on him slowed his contemplative power, something Kiku couldn't understand- or maybe he did, but didn't want to come to terms with the truth.

Luckily, Kiku regained his thoughts and responded to the risen man "I apologize, but I couldn't help noticing you were asleep. I did not wish for you miss your stop," Kiku explained with celerity, hoping his obvious flush would reduce.

The postal worker's agitation from being woken died down after Kiku finished his explanation. "Oh…well, thank you for being considerate enough to wake me up, but it isn't really necessary…I'm a rather light sleeper, so I would've heard them call my stop…"

Thanks to the postman's words, Kiku's blush refused to go down; instead it darkened with the knowledge that the other man needed no arousal from his nap.

"What's your name, anyway…? Mine is Herakles Karpusi…"

_Was there_ mirth_ in his gaze_? Kiku wondered, almost swearing he heard a chuckle escape Herakles' lips. "Ah, I am Kiku Honda. It is a pleasure to meet you, Karpusi-san," he lightly bowed in formal greeting.

"Same to you, Mr. Honda…"

Through the remainder of the ride, the two of them chatted about their professions. Herakles, as it happened, truly hailed from Athens, Greece, ascertaining Kiku's conjecture of Herakles' foreign background, and worked as a postman - such was obvious- for an international delivery company, which would explain why the uniform differed from the national delivery service. Herakles had been newly assigned to a new area for his work, and he needed to resort to public transportation until his relocation to the new district completed.

Kiku hadn't said much about his own job, aside from mentioning the company and his position within the business. He did not find such work grounds to brag, but Herakles seemed mildly impressed with his work.

All too soon, the train came to a halt at a station and Herakles rose to his feet, bidding Kiku farewell. "I hope to speak again with you soon, Mr. Honda…," Herakles remarked, giving Kiku a lazy smile.

Kiku felt petrified under the presence of such a handsome smile. It brought light to Herakles' sleepy features, warming his eyes to a cheery brightness. So stunned was Kiku, that he barely noticed Herakles' departure nor the motion of the subway when it commenced.

_How odd,_ he remarked internally, resolving not to think much of the occurrence, but such a resolve never truly followed through.

In the days that proceeded, Herakles continued to sit near Kiku and start idle conversation with him. Their discussions crossed a spectrum of subjects- from politics, to food, to women, to cleanliness- even sleeping patterns and dreams. Occasionally, they obtained opposing views on a topic and would debate about it-sometimes rather heatedly. In some instances, Herakles poked fun at Kiku's chosen profession every so often, claiming he played golf with his boss on the weekends or drinking bottles of sake while playing mah jong over a co-worker's house; Kiku remarked how messy Herakles' hair was as a rebuttal. At the end of the train ride, however, their friendship only grew stronger.

Friendship designated itself as the word of choice to describe their relationship for a long while- at least a few months. Eventually, the day came in which Herakles would be officially moved in to his new abode, closer to his work, which in turn meant he no longer needed to make use of the train system for commuting.

Kiku thought his willpower defended him against any form of trite emotions, but his mood seemed lower than the norm upon this last day, seated next to Herakles on that worn cushion with the foam spilling from its damaged seams, the metal rectangle swaying back and forth, people getting on and off…

Somehow, neither Herakles nor Kiku had a thing to say to one another during that train ride. Both would occasionally open their mouths, words at the ready to be vociferated, but each swallowed these phrases and thoughts at the last moment. Something about the silence between them appeared too dense to disperse- existing as a residual spirit beneath any layer of noise.

All the while, the distance between Herakles' stop and them shrunk. For a sparse collection of seconds, Kiku dared to hope- dared to dream- to create those fantastical goals he firmly believed only lead foolhardy people astray. He dared to imagine Herakles remaining on board, shimmying close enough so their hips brushed against each other…maybe he would let himself fall asleep, using Kiku's lap as a pillow.

Of course, the majority of Kiku's daydreams contained risqué thoughts, such as what sort of crotch lie beneath those tight pants he wore….or of him straddling the Greek, looking at him straight in those handsome green eyes of his as his hand slowly traced the toned muscles of his arms and abdomen-

"Kiku?" the aforementioned man blinked away his thoughts, giving his attention back to his partner.

"You said you don't believe in dreams yesterday…because they rarely come true… right?" Herakles inquired.

"Hai, in the spectrum of things, they aren't practical."

"Then what about a dream to be a doctor or a restaurant owner…Aren't they practical?"

Kiku hesitated for a moment. "Yes, but they are not dreams, they are goals."

"Okay….let us say…I wish to express my feelings for a person I like…would that be a goal or a dream?"

The question left Kiku perplexed in its origin. An overwhelming part of him seemed convinced Herakles was making an obvious hint about this person he felt attracted to. Unfortunately-or fortunately- this sporadic surge of desire failed to be stifled.

"I suppose it depends on the person you like," he responded calmly, "and how you went about expressing these feelings."

"…what would you say to kissing that person out of the blue on the lips?" Herakles stared at Kiku intently, with those eyes one could drown in…

The train's velocity slowed and came to a stop in front of Herakles' stop. "Again, that would depend on-"

In the following instance, a pair of lips swallowed the remainder of the sentence. At first, shock froze all movement, but Kiku regained himself and kissed the lips back with an eagerness he hardly knew existed. Herakles pulled the other closer into his embrace, keeping their lips together for a countless amount of time. They separated minutes later, a bit dazed from the lack of resentment towards the spontaneous lip-lock. Kiku even failed to notice the train regaining motion a second too late, which made for panic on the Japanese male's part. Herakles assured him there was no reason to be concerned. After all, he had off today. In fact, Herakles came on the train solely to spend more time with Kiku without appearing to be doing so.

Kiku doesn't believe in dreams…He doesn't care for them, sees them as some highfalutin fantasy of the feckless mind. Paradoxically, he _does_ believe in one- incredibly strongly for one who possesses such quantities of doubt- but not because it is an achievable dream or one worth the dedication to strive for.

But because it's a reality.

Author's Note: This fic was made for the Giripan Exchange Fic on LiveJournal. I didn't know if I would enjoy writing this piece (mostly because it is vastly outside my comfort zone), but I think I created a believable story with Greece and Japan in character. The business world is something rather foreign for me, so I would gander that my portrayal may be skewered, so let me know if I got the setting wrong in any way.

I'm a bit upset there is really no true plot as I originally intended, but considering my limited time, I figured this would be for the best. Nevertheless, I hope this was a good read to everyone.

FOOTNOTES:

_Salaryman:_ This term is Japanese in origin and referrers to a white-collar business person whose income is based on salary. They are not very high on the corporate ladder and they normally commute to their offices.

_"…for an international…national delivery service."_- I'm not an expert on the Japanese postal service, but according to my research, they have a national postal service, Japan Post (I think is the name. I don't quite remember) ,and other delivery services, like UPS or FedEx to name a few. I had Heracles work for one of these types of postal services.

_"… claiming he played golf with his boss on the weekends or drinking bottles of sake while playing mah jong over a co-worker's house."_ –This sentence contains some stereotypes concerning salarymen. These are a bit outdated, more associated with the 1960's, but still felt the want to include it as a humor bit.

_Mah Jong:_ This is a complex game, originating in China but rather popular in Japan, in which you have to match certain blocks in a row. It is similar to the card game Rummy, for those who have played it, but vastly different.

Thanks for reading.  
>~KekioHonda<p> 


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